See my greatest fear!

Years ago, I was trying to get with one of the big agencies and I cobbled together a VHS tape of me in adverts and sobbing in The Bill, and took it United Agents for the attention of Dallas Smith. A week later I went back and said, “Has she looked at the tape?” And they were, like, “Dallas is a he, no he hasn’t and he doesn’t want to,” and handed it back to me.

It was a small gig and I was doing Three Minute Hero, which has a long, held note at the end, and I fell off the stage.

On stage in Tasmania, I tripped over a floor monitor and landed on my back like a turtle, kicking my legs in the air trying to get back on my feet in front of about 5,000 people. But when I got on my feet, the whole crowd roared in triumph.

I used to give a fantastic talk about Frankenstein and Dracula, but I’ve never been able to finish either book.

Three mature palm trees. We restored a property in Italy that had been derelict and I needed to make it look established as quickly as I could.

Aggression. Anger. Rudeness. Intolerance. Lack of understanding. Pretty much your average day on X.

Middle-class wanker.

All the kids I didn’t reply to who’ve written lovely letters about my books.

I can be horribly smug and conceited, and yet always in the back of my mind is the thought that things could go terribly wrong at any moment.